


Classy

by rivervixens



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Housewives of Orange County, Picnic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 11:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12982959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivervixens/pseuds/rivervixens
Summary: The reader has a hard time dealing with serious relationships, but some people are just worth it.





	Classy

You and Sam had been seeing each other on and off for a few months now. After he saved you from a demon impersonating your sister, the two of you found the perfect balance. You weren’t very good at dating, and he didn’t have time for it, so “hanging out” was simple. Last night, you got a voicemail from him saying he was going to visit today. This morning, you spent an hour or two shaving, showering, and getting ready. But when he showed up, you discovered that he had other things in mind.

You answered the front door to your apartment eagerly, and in came the surprisingly well-dressed demon hunter. Suit and tie— the whole shabang.   
“So what’s the funeral for?” You joked. 

He let out a small chuckle, and to your surprise, he replied with, “Nope, just felt like dressing classy this time.”

“Classy, hm? Well in that case, how’s this for classy?” You retorted, unbuttoning my shirt and revealing the lacy lingerie you had picked out earlier. His mouth gaped for a moment before you went to close it with your own, but he put his hand over yours to stop you. Disappointed, you got town from your tiptoes.

“What’s wrong, isn’t this what you’re here for?” You asked, putting your hands on his chest and looking up with little doe eyes.

“As much as I enjoy this, not everything is about sex you know.”

“Isn’t it, though?” He was really starting to confuse you. 

/////

When Sam took away his hands from covering your eyes, you found yourself in a small field, with a picnic all set up a foot or so away from you. The grass was tinged a light yellow brown, but it didn’t take away from the beauty of the perfectly placed basket, food, and wine sitting atop the red and white blanket. 

You turned around to see Sam’s awkward smile. Then he spoke the words you didn’t think you could ever be prepared for.

“I wasn’t sure what your ideal date would be but I hope you like it.” 

“A… date?”

“Yeah… I thought you might like it,” he spoke softly, realizing that you might not.

“I can’t get attached,” You said, stroking the side of his face tenderly. You saw the flicker of hope he had in his eyes go away.

“Why not?” 

You tried not to look at him while you told him the harsh truth, “I’d like nothing more than to know that I’d have someone like you with me forever. But I’m a realist. I know how this works, and I can accept that.”

“You’re not a realist, you’re just scared. Nothing I can say or do will show you, but if you let yourself, you can have a forever. And I intend to be there for that.”

Every fiber in your being knew that it wouldn’t last. That every moment with a man like Sam Winchester would be simply that; a moment. But you also knew that if you didn’t at least live those moments, that you wouldn’t have any life with him at all. 

Nothing, not even heartbreak, could be worse than that. 

You didn’t know what else to do, so you just said, “Okay.”

You saw Sam’s eyes light up again, and his shoulders relax in relief. He echoed your, “okay,” and went to go set down on the picnic blanket when you pulled him back by his arm. 

As he turned to look at you, you put your unoccupied hand on his cheek and kissed him. It wasn’t like any of the other times, though— you could feel yourself blushing by a simple peck. 

You didn’t know it, but he could tell what was running through your head by your eyes. The two of you sat down and spoke softly to one another, eating strange cheeses and putting them together with jelly on pieces of toasted bread. 

Occasionally, you would put your hand on top of his, and he would brush your hair behind your ear. You wouldn’t know what to do, so you looked down and smiled sheepishly. 

The two of you got to know each other more than your previous encounters had let you, and you noticed that he smiled more. 

You learned that when he was younger, his mother died. He expected you to say you’re sorry, or that one of your family members had died as well. But you just listened and nodded along. You were a good listener, and you didn’t pretend that you understood what he was going through, because you didn’t. 

The moments of silence in between conversation weren’t uncomfortable. They were just nice, short periods of reflection. Sometimes the two of you would just hold hands and listen to a train passing by, or birds chattering. 

There was something about him that made you feel safe. He was tall and… well, handsome to say the least. But he also seemed to really care about you. Not in a parental type of way, but in a way that suggested that he would be there for you anytime you needed him.

“It’s getting dark,” he said, and the realization immediately brought down your mood. But he leaned over and kissed you, and you could feel yourself not wanting to let go. 

When he let go, everything seemed to sink in. He started packing up the basket and trash into the car, and wrapped the blanket around you, even though you hadn’t realized you were starting to shiver.

On the drive home, you could already feel the moment where he walks out the door and never comes back. When the two of you got back to your apartment, Dean was on the couch watching the Housewives of Orange County, but frantically turned it off when you stepped through the doorway. Dean spread both of his arms over the top of the couch and snarked, “You better not have put handprints on my window, Sam.”

Sam ignored his brother, and turned to you.

“I’m going to go to bed. Umm…” he trailed off, not knowing what to say. But then he pecked you on the cheek with a quick, “Goodnight,” and before you even knew it, he was shutting the door to the guest room.

“Guess I’m getting the couch then,” Dean said, “unless you want me in your bed.” He looked at you with a smirk and wiggly eyebrows, trying to lighten the mood. 

You huffed in annoyance, and went to your own bedroom. You changed into pajamas and got into bed, but you couldn’t sleep. Sam didn’t bother asking you if you had fun, and he didn’t show any affection whatsoever. 

Maybe he changed his mind, and decided that he didn’t actually want to be with you. You couldn’t believe that he led you on like that though. You don’t know how, but eventually, even through the distant noise of bickering housewives, you drifted off to sleep. 

In the morning, you got dressed and went into the living room to see if the Winchester boys hadn’t deserted you already. To your surprise, you found Sam in the living room. 

He stood up to talk to you, but before he could say anything, you said, “If you don’t want to be with me, or you’re having second thoughts, or whatever, just go.”

His eyebrows furrowed with confusion, and you realized that might not be the case after all. 

“Uhh… just, uh, here, take this,” he muttered, not really knowing what to say. He was clearly taken aback, and he had no idea what was going on, but he handed you a printout of something. You took it, and looked at what it said. 

“Is this…?”

“A plane ticket. I have one too. It’s so that we can go on vacation for a few months. Yesterday you said you wanted to travel, so I figured maybe… you’d want to go with me? I’m sorry, I should have asked before I bought it, but…”

“Paris?!?! Holy fuck,” you cursed in a pitch so high you didn’t even know how it was physically possible. You wrapped your arms around Sam’s neck and just started kissing him all over his face. 

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Make sure to comment if you want another chapter for any of my fics <3


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